Page 48 of Trusting You
“You’re okay, Cecelia Leary.”
“Why, thank you,” I said, giving him an exaggerated bow.
“Just don’t break my best friend’s heart and we’ll be good.”
I smiled at him and nodded, feeling a weight settling into my stomach. What if he was right? What if Liam was getting attached to me when he had insisted he wanted casual?
* * *
After my unnerving conversation with Trent, I went searching for Liam. For reasons I could not explain, I needed him. I eventually found him in his office with his head in his hands.
I walked over, and he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his strong arms around me.
He nuzzled my neck and asked, “Do you feel like some coffee? I need a fresh cup.”
“Sure. I’ll grab it for you.”
After coming back from the kitchen, I settled onto the couch in his office and waited. Something was clearly bothering him. His back was slumped, and those gorgeous blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
He looked at me quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“You seem really stressed, and I want to help. Spill it.” I blew on my mug of hot coffee and waited patiently. I knew Liam enough by now to know he held everything tight to the vest, but I also knew that it would feel better to unburden himself. So I settled in and waited.
He seemed to be debating with himself. “I don’t want to bother you.”
I shot him a look. “Really? Because you didn’t have a problem bothering me at five a.m.”
“Well, yes, my cock was aching for you. It was worth it, no?”
I gave him a big smile. “Definitely worth it. But I’m not sure about the shower afterwards.”
He jumped up from his chair, sloshing coffee on the hardwood floor. “What? You were screaming my name for like five straight minutes while I went down on you with the shower head.”
I laughed. “Calm down. I was just kidding. And you’re right. It was incredible.” Actually, his tongue plus the shower head was a religious experience, but I didn’t want him getting too big of an ego. My two orgasms seemed like enough of a pat on the back.
“Thank you,” he said, puffing up his chest.
“So now that I’ve got you all worked up, how about you just tell me what’s going on?”
He grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning up the spill. He was detail-oriented both inside and outside the bedroom, which was such a turn-on.
After finally sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, he sighed. “I’m stressed about brewery business. Things have improved a lot, thanks to you.”
“Thank you.”
“We are finally getting to a place we can sustain, but we have a lot more to do before we can really grow and expand.”
“How can I help?” I still didn’t know a lot about the science of brewing, but I had learned a lot about the beer industry and its customer base. We were doing well, and I had big plans for next year lined up already.
“You’ve done so much. And it’s not something you can help with. We are just stuck.”
This defeatist attitude was very out of character for him. “I don’t believe you. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”
“The brewery itself is going amazing. Our numbers are way up, and our events are providing so much income as well as exposure, it’s incredible. But on the distribution side of things, it’s just so hard.”
I let him continue. “The big distribution companies are hard to work with. We are such a small brand that they spend all their time and effort pushing the large national and international brands. It’s very hard for craft breweries to get wider distribution for this reason. It’s an old-school wholesale model, and these companies and account reps take advantage of the little guys. Lifetime contracts, lots of limiting regulations about selling your own beer, and loss of control.”
